Songs of the World (not really!)
by Weapon Frayer
Summary: Who wants to be an American idiot? This is the fic, in which a mini-songfic is made for one song every chapter (possibly). I'm not great with summaries, but this is the best I can get. You may suggest songs by PM, and comment upon the chapters! Rated T for swearing, and potential violence.
1. American Idiot

**Author's Note:**

**Being the bored person I am, I decided to start a mini-project. If you like Green Day, you will recognize basically all of these songs (all of the singles from ****_American Idiot _****are in this mini-series.**

**There will also be some other songs from other artists, like Coldplay, Bruno Mars, and possibly more. If you would like to suggest a song, PM me, and we will work something out.**

**Finally, enjoy this chapter, and R&R!**

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**Songs of the World ****_(not really!)_**

**Chapter 1 - Don't Want To Be An American Idiot**

It is May 1970, and America is pissed:

His government had been hiding the facts of Vietnam, and lied to him face-to-face.

Not only that, but he had sent 12 of his children to help with the war effort in Vietnam; only 8 initially returned, the others taken captive or hostage. America was pissed, breaking the door to the Oval Office open.

"Ah, Alfred. What brings you here-"

America had the president in his grip, stretching his suit's collar. "_Mr. President_, care to explain why you didn't tell me about _this?_" America held up a stack of papers, labeled at the top 'Copy of the Pentagon Papers [US-Vietnam Relations]'.

The president was pale. "Where-where did you get that?" he stuttered.

America's aura was frighting, rivaling Russia's, as he fumed, and swept a stack of papers on the president's desk onto the floor. "Why haven't you told me this? I've been hysterical, ever since I learned that Arizona{1} was captured, from this stack of papers!"

America huffed. "Well, if everything isn't meant to be okay, then tension between me and the commie bastard will increase. AGAIN. And this makes me think: do you think that the people you govern are meant to follow you? If so, then f**k you."

"America, I'd like to argue a point. We do this to keep the welfare of the country safe, and free from hysteria and paranoia. If we don't keep the steady stream of propaganda, then everyone will fall into paranoia. Including you."

America sighed, walking out of the room. "If you think so, I will not stand for your agenda. And if you still think so, call me a f****t." And with that, he walked out of the room, mumbling _Don't want to be an American idiot_.

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**End Note:**

**Short, yet pretty good.**

**{1} John McCain was a POW from Vietnam, and wasn't released until 1974. He was from Arizona.**

**And yes, I know that Green Day didn't exist yet, but this is Hetalia!**

**Anyways, hope you enjoyed it!**

**Until next time, ****_adieu!_**


	2. Jesus of Suburbia

**Author's Note:**

**Trying to hurry~**

**The song 'Jesus of Suburbia' will be split up, by its 5 parts (Jesus of Suburbia, City of the Dead, I Don't Care, Dearly Beloved, Tales From Another Broken Home). The same will be done with 'Homecoming'.**

**Just a note: some, but not all of the songs are connected to each other. 'Jesus of Suburbia', the full track is considered an arc of the fic.**

**Anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter, and R&R!**

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**Songs of the World (not really!)**

**Chapter 2 - I'm The Son Of Rage & Love**

Gilbert was enjoying himself, at Francis' party.

The girls, and all of the hot sex he was having was increasing his awesomeness levels by 9000, and the beer was better than the American crap that Alfred had.

Then came along his friend (no, rival) Roderich. "What the holy hell?! What the fuck are you doing here?"

The two glared at each other, with tension rising for every passing second. "What's wrong with you? Shouldn't you be pissing off Elizabeth?" Roderich sneered. Gilbert retorted, harshly. "There's nothing wrong with me, this is how my life's supposed to be! Now, I recommend you get out, or you'll suffer."

Roderich's facial expression turned dark. "_What did you say, you asshat face?_" he hissed, throwing a TV at Gilbert. "Hey! I just got that fixed! Fuck!" the landlord yelled, pissed off.

"Yea, asshat. Here's a hat." Gilbert pulled out a pink, sparkly party hat, and placed it on Roderich's head. "You little fucker. You didn't just do that." Antonio, Gilbert's friend, stuttered.

"Why you little..."

Then, Antonio threw the content of a bottle of beer at Roderich's face. It was salty.

"MY EYES! THEY BURN WITH THE SALTINESS!" Roderich screamed. "Gil! Don't take that-"

But it was too late. Gilbert sniffled, throwing the now-empty bag of cocaine onto the floor. "Dude, you should get out. I can already hear Elizabeth running."

Gilbert smirked. "Then let's go."

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**End Note:**

**Done with part one! If you guys want to suggest a song, please do one that isn't revolving around supernatural or sci-fi themes, as I find it hard to write those kinds of stories.**

**Example:**

**'Viva la Vida' by Coldplay = Good**

**'Knights of Cydonia' by Muse = Undecided**

**'2112' by Rush = Not accepted**

**So, those are some examples of songs that you can suggest! (Please, not Justin Bieber or Miley Cyrus either!)**

**Anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**Until next time, _adieu!_**


	3. Holiday

**Author's Note:**

**This is just a re-post from 'A Race Against Time', one of the other fics that I write. It won't make much sense if you don't read it (here), but it will make much more sense if you do.**

**Anyways, DFTBA, and enjoy this short chapter!**

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**Songs of the World (****_not really!)_**

**Chapter 3 - Hear The Sound Of The Falling Rain**

_Hear the song of the falling rain  
Coming down like an Armageddon flame (Hey!)  
The shame, the ones who died without a name_

The protesters who were at Heroes' Square were chanting the old, American punk song, in response to the failing government's response to the War of French Succession, also honoring the ones who died defending the outpost in Ukraine in 2067, which was similar to the Alamo for the Americans.

_Hear the dogs howling out of key  
To a hymn called 'Faith and Misery'  
And bleed, the company lost the war today_

Now the police dogs were coming in. They were unleashed upon the protesters, mauling the ones who tried to climb the velvet-covered colonades. This caused the crowd to start firing on the army and policemen at the scene.

_I beg to dream and differ, from the hollow lies  
This is the dawning of the rest of our lives  
On Holiday_

The government had become increasingly corrupt in the years during the war, stealing citizens' revenue to pay for the president's private mansion, and hiding information of mass killings of their fellow people in the New Mexico death camps.

_Hear the drum pounding out of time  
Another protester has crossed the line  
To find the money's on the other side_

More and more protesters had arrived, eventually engulfing the bottom end of District XIV, to the Duma River's banks, and trapping almost 700 policemen and soldiers in the deadly protest area. Then, the drums started to bang. This signaled the protesters, to start to overrun the surrounding districts, with force, and kill any law enforcement near Heroes' Square.

_Can I get another Amen? (Amen!)  
There's a flag wrapped around a score of men  
A gag, a plastic bag on a monument_

The Hungarian Freedom Movement's flag, a tricolor of light green, white, and light red, was brought up to the top of the colonades, as the velvet curtain was thrown onto the dead, bloody corpses of policemen and soldiers, alike. "Viva la Free Hungary!" the men who brought up the flag cheered, the crowd roaring in approval.

The protesters marched through Northern Budapest, burning any government buildings or law enforcement structures in their way. Then, they heard the familiar guitar riff from Holiday. Yelling, they shouted:

_The representative from Budapest has the floor!  
Zieg Heil to the presidential gasman  
Bombs away is your punishment!_

_Pulverize the fucking government  
Who destroy your self-governance!_

_Bang, bang goes the broken glass  
Kill all the fuckwads that don't agree!_

The protesters set their sights on the Sándor Palace, torches, rifles, and blades in hand. Breaking open the doors, they started to burn the interior. A man, a woman, and 3 children entered the main room. "What the hell is going-"

"There he is! Kill him!" someone yelled, which caused the people in the front to fire their assault rifles at the 5 people. 67 shots, 142 stabbings, and multiple 3rd degree burns, the president of Hungary, and his immediate family were dead.

_Trial by fire, setting fire  
Is not the way it's meant for me  
Just cause, just cause we're outlaws, yeah_

The main defense of Budapest was mostly depleted, by the time the protester-turned rebels proclaimed control over all of Hungary's territory before the war, also declaring independence from Austria. When 3:00 PM in Budapest, May 7th happened, the blades of steel clamped onto its' wooden platforms.

"Oh, it's teatime."

And off went with Isaac Prevett's head.

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**End Note:**

**It's done! Only took 3 minutes (today) to write it!**

**I really recommend my other fic, 'A Race Against Time'! It's a lot of stories, compiled and connected into one story! It is set in the future, and it is a spiritual successor to 'Isolation', by Well Groomed Goldfish.**

**Anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter! Remember to R&R, and follow and favorite!**

**Until next time, DFTBA, and ****_adieu!_**


	4. An Apology

**Author's Note:**

**Oh fuck.**

**My original copy was deleted, because of the fucking shitstorm that hit the area this afternoon.**

**My power went out, so I couldn't update. That is, until 9:30.**

**Now, I am writing an apology to you guys for my lateness. Because of this, 'A Race Against Time' will be updated on Sunday.**

**So, anyways, DFTBA, and be patient, until I get the next one up tomorrow!**


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